Breaking the Slavic Boundaries
by Madhulika
Summary: Five years after the defeat of the Dark Lord, slave trades are beginning. Draco Malfoy buys one for himself, only to realize that he can't do to her all that others do to their slaves. She is too vulnerable, too fragile, both mentally and physically. So what is the use of such a slave? Yet Draco finds himself caring for her, wanting to fulfill her needs.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Our story begins five years after the defeat of the Dark Lord. The wizards had rejoiced, splendidly, and were now backing to the usual, everyday routine. The witches and the wizards who fought against Voldemort were still remembered fondly, and were looked upon as the heroes of their time.

Obviously, who could forget Harry Potter? His victory had won him all a man of 21 could ever hope for. He had a beautiful lover, a fortune in his account, kind friends, his dream job, as an auror, and a whole generation of kids and adults who considered him their savior.

But this is not the story of Harry.

No, this is the story of Draco Malfoy. What happened to him? Who became his wife? And most importantly, was the wizarding community ever able to forgive him, and his parents?

The truth was, they did. They did it not because they believed Draco when he said he was forced to work with the Dark Lord, and the fact that Draco's family was of a pure bloodline didn't help.

But they did forgive, and forgot the crimes of him, and his family, because of a statement by Harry Potter.

Harry, in a press conference, told the wizarding world how Narcissa, Draco's mother, tricked Voldemort into believing that Harry was dead. How she listened to his beating heart, and heard as he breathed, and yet told the Dark Lord of his death. It was her who flipped the coin.

He also told them about when he was taken as a prisoner in the Malfoy Manor, and how Draco refused to recognize him and admit that it was him, Harry Potter.

And how could the wizarding world ignore the beseeching words of their savior? They demanded that the Malfoy family must be given an official pardon, and must be allowed to live their lives like a respectable family.

Harry had an influence over the community, and the Ministry could not ignore the demands of it. So, even though some ministers didn't like it, the Malfoy family was given an official pardon.

And so the family lived a normal, no, a _luxurious_ life, given that they had enough wealth to last them for seven generations. They were given the Malfoy Manor back, though Lucius and Narcissa weren't willing to move back in. The horrifying incidents: the murders, the tortures which were done during the reign of the Dark Lord in the Manor had convinced Lucius that he must sell the Manor, and he would have done it, if not for the interference of his son, Draco.

To Draco, the Manor was the symbol of his pride, of his position as a pure blood. He wasn't willing to sell it, despite Lucius's and Narcissa's earnest requests.

At last, it was arranged that Draco would live alone in the Malfoy Manor, with three house elves to attend to him, while his parent's would live in a Bungalow some distance away. Nothing could convince them to live in the Malfoy Manor.

In short, things were going on pleasantly, if not happily, for the Malfoy's.

Unfortunately, the same could not be said for the other wizards and their families who sided with Voldemort.

Most of the wizards who were with Voldemort in the war were killed in the battle. Those who were not were publicly executed.

But not with avada kedavra. No, the death from the unforgivable curse was considered too easy, too painless. The wizards were eager to let the Death eaters have a taste of their own drink. Obviously, the ministry didn't allowed torture.

At least, not in public.

But the Death Eaters were killed. Some were hanged, others beheaded. Some wizard objected to this method of public execution. They said that it was too mundane, that it was the method of muggles.

But the ministry pacified them. They said that the Death Eaters had sunken far low to have any other method optional. That the death as a muggle was perfect for them, because only a muggle would do what the Death Eaters had done.

And the handful of wizards who objected were pacified, convinced by this argument. After all, a wizard's position was, in every way, higher than that of a muggle.

And the families of these Death Eaters? They suffered a fate worse than death. Most of them were in Azkaban, since they were related to the Death Eaters. Being related to a death eater was enough to be shunned by the society.

Those who weren't in Azkaban were sold in the wizard slave market.

But I suppose I must explain this slave market, for most of the readers wouldn't know about it.

You see, even though wealth can't buy happiness, it can buy pretty much all other things. Even humans.

In wealthy wizarding families, it was normal to have at least one human slave. The slave was trained to serve his/her master in any way his/her master wished. The slave could be muggle, but wizards/witches were preferred.

But it was illegal.

And even thought it was illegal, all wizards knew about this practice. And this practice was frowned upon in the wizarding society. According to the wizards, keeping house elves was alright. After all, they were produced for this sole purpose. But keeping humans as slaves?

However, this taboo was uplifted after the fall of Voldemort. The society was convinced that some wizards were no better than to be slaves. And of course, muggles were not good at all.

So after the Dark Lord's fall, the ministry gave slave trading legal sanction. Almost overnight, there were slave markets, everywhere. One had to be surprised at the efficiency of the traders, how fast they were. There were slaves of every type, to do every work.

And most of them were wizards/witches. There were too many of them to be sure that all of them were related to the Death Eaters. So it is safe to assume that once, they were free.

But who hears to slaves? No one has time, or interest to heed them. They are only required to do their work, and keep mum about their pains.

Because it is the bee that loses its hive to give us honey.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Draco paced restlessly in his room at the Malfoy Manor.

By taking one glance around the room, you could say that it belonged to an imperious Slytherine. It showed the pride.

Three walls were an off white, while the center one was a dark, poisonous green. Decorated on the wall were silver wall hangings, only these didn't depicted flowers and waves. These depicted snakes. They appeared to be crawling, and while to most people, they would seem to be hideous, they had a dark charm, a grace.

Most of the space in the room was taken up by a large, king sized bed. Kept on the bed stand were some books on dark magic, showing the interest of the occupant. Uninterrupted light from the setting sun streamed through the large window on the right side of the room. It gave the otherwise intimating room a cheery feel.

Unfortunately, same could not be said about the man who would insisted on walking at an agitated pace throughout the house.

"Why do they have to come again? I have already told them my views about this. I refuse to be implicating in this… this crime!" Draco frowned, lines marring his otherwise smooth forehead, and shook his head. Of course, it wasn't a crime anymore. But that didn't make it any more appalling.

"SOLOMON!" Draco shouted. A few moments later, a small, old male house elf came at the open door. He wore a clean, white garment, almost like a toga, only shorter.

"Yes, master?" The house elf asked in a surprisingly strong voice, looking straight at Draco with a keen, wise gaze.

"Are they here yet?"

"No, master."

"Well, they must be! They are already late!" Draco lashed out, then, apparently realized that it was futile, after all, what could the house elf do anything about it?

So he asked again, in a softer tone, "Is everything prepared?"

"Of course it is, master." said Solomon, with a bow.

"Humph. You may go." Draco guesses he couldn't take out his anger on the seemingly weak and submissive house elf, even though he wasn't all that weak and submissive. Draco knew. He had seen him with a broom and a little magic against a boggart. Let us just say that the thing the house elf feared most was dust in his house, and not his master giving him clothes. Not that Draco would ever give him any. His entire house was dependent on the house elf.

Draco went back to pacing. Suppose they did buy him one? The thought was terrifying.

But he knew they would never, not without his approval.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. "Good afternoon, Master, Mistress. Master Draco will be downstairs in a moment." As much as Draco hated it, Solomon and all other house elves had to call his parents Master and Mistress.

Frankly, Draco didn't even like them to call _him_ Master, but he'd once suggested it only to find three hyperventilating elves.

"Thank you, Solomon." came Narcissa's soft voice. Draco also heard Lucius's half grunt- half humph. Draco sighed. His father still had trouble adjusting to the seemingly "freedom" Draco had given to his house elves. He thought that they didn't deserve it.

Draco braced himself for the assault, and putting on a huge smile on his face, descended from the staircase and walked to the drawing room.

"Draco! How lovely to see you!" He was engulfed in silk robs as his mother hugged him.

He shook hands with his Dad and nodded. "Father."

"Draco." Lucious acknowledged.

"Why don't you sit down?" They sat on the plush sofas.

"How are you, Draco?" Narcissa asked, concern evident on her face.

"I am fine, mother." He didn't meet their eyes as he said it. He knew that he was far from fine. How could a wizard of his young age be, with no work, no friends, no companions except three house elves and occasionally his parents? Not that he needed any work, given his prosperity. But the next two things? Deep down, he knew that he needed it.

"Really, I am good." Draco repeated, when Narcissa looked unconvinced.

"No, you are not!" Lucius snapped. "Lucius." Narcissa squeezed her husband's arm. "Let me."

It was still a source of amazement for Draco as how two persons as different in nature as his parents were so compatible.

"Honestly father, I am fine. No more nightmares." Draco tried for a brave smile. Lucius huffed.

"It is good Draco. I am happy for you." Narcissa said.

"But..?" Draco could almost hear the unsaid word.

"But I would be happier if you reconsidered our suggestion."

Draco sighed."I have already told you my views about your _suggestion_, mother." He couldn't quite keep the sarcasm out of his voice. After all, they weren't suggesting, they were forcing.

Lucius's eyes narrowed. "Nonsense. You need someone to take care of yourself. And you refuse to marry. What other choice do we have?"

Draco shrugged. "I have Solomon, Pexa and Guif to take care of me."

"Bah! The house elves." Lucious made a disgusted face. "I have already told you, you give them too much freedom. They are not meant to take care of you. They are meant _serve_ you. We used to keep our house elves in their place. Obviously you remember Dobby-"

"Yes, I do. And I also remember what good that did come to!" Draco hisses in fury.

Lucious blanched.

Narcissa tried to salvage the situation, trying to divert all their minds from the painful remembrance of Dobby as he unscrewed a certain chandelier, which would have killed Narcissa had she not dived. "We are not saying that they don't take enough care of you."

Narcissa took a deep breath. "It's just that… you need a companion, darling. You refuse to socialize, don't go to the balls and parties with us. You don't even have someone whom you can call a friend! You used to be so lively. I… I know that the experience with Voldemort-" Both Draco and Lucius flinched at the name, but she continued "-has been traumatic, but it doesn't mean that your life has stopped. We worry about you, darling. Just look at you. Your eyes seem drained of all life! How can we bear it? We will do anything for you. Do this much for us, please?" Narcissa's eyes filled with tears.

Draco stared at his parents, but mostly at his mother. This was the woman who had lied to the most powerful wizard of his time, without batting an eye. She had saved his life.

Draco was suddenly filled with regret. He knew what he had to do, if only to make her- no –_them_ happy.

He sighed. "Very well, mother. As you both wish."

The change in Narcissa's and Lucius's demeanor was instantaneous.

"Really?" Narcissa breathed.

"Yes. Of course. It shall be done today" It was Lucius who answered.

"Today?" Draco squeaked. He'd been hoping for a few days off, now that he'd agreed.

Lucius frowned."Yes, what is the problem with today? It is Wednesday. It is a nice enough day."

"Yes, yes. Go right now." Narcissa said. To be true, they were afraid that Draco might change his mind if they waited another day.

Draco looked from his mother to his father. There was no escape now.

They all stood up.

"Well, Draco, we are going now. We will come to dinner when you have bought one." Narcissa said in her no-nonsense voice and walked to the front door.

Lucius lingered behind. Draco turned a questioning look at him.

Lucius cleared his throat. "Well, now that you have agreed, here is something you must read before your purchase." He handed Draco a blue coloured pamphlet he hadn't noticed before. "I guess that's it. Goodbye, son." He walked to his wife to the front door.

"Have a nice day, Master, Mistress." Solomon's voice rang out once more.

Draco heard them disapparating, but his concentration was fixed on the pamphlet his father had given him. It was notified by the ministry.

**A Guide on How to Buy and Keep a Slave**

1\. Please make sure that the dealer from whom you buy the slave has a ministry approved license.

2\. Please make sure that the slave you buy is completely free of all contagious diseases, sexual or otherwise.

3\. If the slave you buy is diseased, make sure that he/she is treated at St. Mungo's before you make any contact with him/her, sexual or otherwise.

4\. While most slaves are broken before they are sold, some may be not. Please take precautionary measures against these (bondage, locked in a room, etc) for your own protection.

5\. While slaves are authorized to have wands, this practice is discouraged. But if they must, it is the owner's responsibility to allow them to use a spell. A slave may only use the spells which the owner has permitted him/her to. Any accident cause by the use of spell on the slave's part is not the responsibility of the dealer and/or the Ministry.

6\. The owner may not use the slave to murder/torture/hold hostage any other slave/wizard/witch. Any such action caused by the slave is the responsibility of the owner. However, the slave may take measures against other slave/wizard/witch if it is merely an act of self defense/for the protection of his/her owner.

7\. The owner may not kill the slave. So, the use of Avada Kedavra is prohibited. However, the use of "_Imperio__" __and "Crucio" _is allowed ONLY IN THE CASE OF SLAVES.

8\. Since the slave is the owner's property, the owner may do anything he/she wants with the slave. However, extreme mutilation/amputation/body modification is discouraged on moral grounds.

Draco had to sit down after he read the pamphlet. This was worse than he thought.

The thought of owning another human being nauseated him.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Sure, there was a time when he would have had no problem with this arrangement. He would be ecstatic. He wanted that much power, the power of deciding the life of another human (even though the pamphlet said the he couldn't kill the slave). But that was the pre-war Draco.

But now, he had seen how it felt to be at the other side. He had seen how Voldemort used the Death Eaters, how he used Draco's father and him. They were no better than slaves.

And how could he owe another slave, when he had been in the same place, felt how it feels to be at the mercy of other?

Draco sighed. Well, he would go out, buy one, and see how it works.

He stood. "Solomon!"

The house elf came inside the room. "Yes, Master?"

"I am going outside. Take out my robes."

"Yes, master. May I ask where you are going?"

Now, most wizards would be infuriated at this question. How dare a house elf ask such a question?

But by now, Draco was used to this. In fact, it felt nice, to know that there was someone who cared, someone who awaited his arrival. Even though it was an old house elf.

Draco frowned. Maybe his parents were right. Maybe he _did_ need a slave. He was going out of his mind, being alone.

"I am going to buy a slave. Sure enough you heard the conversation?"

Solomon smiled but otherwise avoided the question. "Very well, master. Must I prepare a room?"

Draco hadn't thought about this. Will the girl (It must be a girl. He won't have a male slave.) sleep with him? What would she wear? He hadn't had any female clothing. What would she do? Solomon and the other house elves took care of the house, and Draco spent most of his time working, outside the house.

Merlin's beard, keeping a slave was difficult.

Solomon, sensing his dilemma, said, "I'll prepare the cellar. Is that alright, master?"

"What? Why the cellar?"

"Um… most wizards keep their slaves in their cellars or dungeons, master."

That was horrible. Draco couldn't imagine living in a cellar, let alone forcing some poor girl to sleep there.  
Besides, this was the same cellar where Peter died, where Granger was tortured by his aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange, where numerous prisoners were held and killed when Voldemort lived with them. Draco hated going down there. He could still hear the screams.

He certainly won't allow the girl to live in the cellar.

"I think the bedroom across from mine would be alright."

"Very well, master." Solomon bowed, but Draco sensed that he was surprised. Why wouldn't he be? It was unheard of, giving a slave her own sleeping quarters.

" What about her clothing?"

"I am sure Pexa can do something. We do have some lovely lengths of silk and satin, if I am not wrong."

Draco sighed in relief. "You are a savior, Solomon."

"Just a house elf, master. Meant to serve you."

Draco swallowed. He _had _heard his father.

"Solomon, I-"

Solomon waved his hand. "What he said was true, master. Doesn't matter. This is what I do, and in my work, I am happy. You must go before its night."

"Very well." Draco went to his room and changed his robes. He was back within five minutes.

"I will be home in an hour or so."

"Goodbye, master."

Draco came out of the front door, through the large, dimly lit, and sumptuously decorated hallway. It was just before twilight. The air had cooled considerably. He was about to disapparate, but then he realized he didn't know where the slave market was.

He tried to think. He did know where one was. He just couldn't remember the place. Was it in Diagon Alley? No, not there.

Ah- yes, in Knockturn Alley. Right.

Draco disapparated.

Knockturn Alley always reminded him of darker days. He hated the place.

Still, he had work there. After the war, the demands of objects of dark magic were increased. And they weren't technically illegal. Most of the objects which the ministry had taken from the Malfoy Manor before the war were given back.

But Draco wanted to get rid of them. So came into Knockturn alley frequently, to sell them. Soon enough, other dealers began contacting him, and he found it to be a pleasing distraction. So he bought these items and sold them. He didn't need to, but he liked the work.

The alley was as usual, filled with filthy, poor wizards and witches. Many of them stared at him as he passes. Few even raised their wands. Draco supposed that he made quite a good slave material. If they could capture and sell him, they would be rich.

Still, their raised wands couldn't fathom a spell. As soon as they looked him in the eye, they lowered their heads and hurried away. He had a ferocity about him which scared them.

The slave market was at the end of the alley.

Zarathurasta: Slaves for keeps


End file.
